


New York Minute

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Code Black (TV), The West Wing
Genre: Cute, M/M, Stealth Crossover, but enough plot to get by, little plot to obscure the fluff, more west wing than code black, not what you might expect, sneaky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: 2017 - After he wasn't sure how many more hours of trauma surgery, ten saves and three losses later, Ethan pushed through the door of the waiting room and froze, his eyes landing on a man in a torn tan trench coat with a field dressing tied to his shoulder.“Shit.” The word slipped past his mouth and he was glad he was on the other side of the room as his past came crashing down on him.Seventeen Years Ago:January 21st, 2000“This is Kayla Slater with KWTY news at seven. It has been just under twenty-four hours since the mass shooting at the inauguration of President Josiah Bartlet which claimed seven lives, including that of Vice President John Hoynes. Twelve victims remain in critical condition at George Washington hospital and all of Washington D.C. and the surrounding area is shut down as a massive manhunt for the remaining two shooters is underway.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelastatlantean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastatlantean/gifts).



> So the day of the election I started watching the West Wing. I'm on my second run through of season 3 now, and my sister, who inevitably got way more into it than I did, since I do ten million things on rotation and don't ever devote the same amount of time to one thing, ended up hopping on the Rob Lowe train to Code Black. Which I just hopped on this morning. Thus, this odd little crossover/not totally a crossover was born. 
> 
> This is much more West Wing based so I would say you'll understand more if you've seen that but not Code Black, but it may be more confusing the other way around. 
> 
> Enjoy! Reviews are love and they make me happy!

**January 21 st, 2000**

“ _This is Kayla Slater with KWTY news at seven. It has been just under twenty-four hours since the mass shooting at the inauguration of President Josiah Bartlet which claimed seven lives, including that of Vice President John Hoynes. Twelve victims remain in critical condition at George Washington hospital and all of Washington D.C. and the surrounding area is shut down as a massive manhunt for the remaining two shooters is underway.”_

Josh clicked the TV off, unable to watch the news repeat itself one more time. He glanced across the waiting room, his eyes darting to each of his friends. Ginger had her head on Toby's lap and was sound asleep, the white gauze around the graze on her upper arm barely a contrast against her pale skin. Bonnie was on Toby's other side, her head on his shoulder. Toby himself seemed to be passed out with his arms around both of them. Leo was outside the waiting room talking to the doctors and secret service, as imposing as ever from the wheelchair he had insisted on, despite a bullet nearly severing his femoral artery only hours before. There were a few reporters milling around but most of them were just as tired as everyone else.

Josh glanced down at CJ's head as she stirred, unconsciously trying to find a more comfortable part of his shoulder. On his other side Donna hiccuped, wiping away tears that still hadn't stopped flowing. He looked down at himself, one hand gripping Donna's, the other CJ. His hands, his white dress shirt, they were still coated in blood. Sam's blood.

Sam had been hit in the chest, on the lower left side. Josh's left, Sam's right. It had been the only detail he could think of has he had his hands pressed over the wound trying to stop the blood. He hadn't wanted to think about anything else, not with his best friend lying on the ground bleeding to death under his hands.

“Josh,” Leo's voice broke through Josh's haze and Josh's head snapped up, realizing Leo must have called him three or four times. “They got the guys. You should go home and change. The secret service will take you.”

“Leo, I don't want to-” Josh started but Leo shook his head, glancing at Donna, who nodded and stood to get her and Josh's coats, dumped haphazardly in a pile of coats and bags and things people had managed to hang on to in the panic, mostly because their fingers has frozen around whatever they had been holding.

“Josh, go home. Get a shower, burn those clothes. You can come right back, but you have to clean up and eat first, do you hear me? Sam is out of surgery but it will be awhile before he wakes up. You've got time.”

Josh nodded slowly and Donna helped shift CJ over in the chair so she was leaning on a reporter named Danny who everyone knew had the worlds biggest crush on her. He mustered up a bit of a smile as he slid an arm around her and nodded to Josh.

“Come on, Josh, lets go,” Donna said, holding his coat for him and making sure he got his arms in it. She held his hand as they left the hospital, the only remaining thing keeping him grounded.

* * *

 

“What do you mean they were after me?” Sam asked dazedly, his head pounding and his vision fuzzy. He could tell it was the head of the secret service in front of him, talking, but what he was saying wasn't making any sense.

“You were targeted, Sam. Did you know your grandfather's family had ties to the Italian Mafia?” Ron Butterfield asked.

“Mafia? What the hell are you talking about?”

“We've discovered that your grandfather, and your father, have had dealings with the mafia, your father as recently as three years ago. It looks like he got into bad debt and when he didn't pay back on time, they came after you as payback.”

“And shot up the presidential inauguration?” Sam asked incredulously. Ron didn't answer, seemingly at a loss for words or explanation. “What happens now?” Sam finally said, rubbing his temples.

“Witness protection, Sam. The cover story will be that you died of your injuries and you'll disappear somewhere in plain sight where we can keep an eye on you.”

“Where?”

“How do you feel about becoming an army doctor?”

“Sounds great,” Sam said sarcastically. “I want to see Josh.”

“Sam, you can't, you can't see anyone, no one can know.”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “I want to see Josh. Now. I'm not going anywhere unless you let me see him.”

Ron looked over at Leo, the only other one privy to what was happening and at his nod, Ron sighed and shook his head, speaking into his comm to have someone bring Josh to Sam's room.

“You can't tell him, Sam,” Leo said and Sam nodded. He understood. But he wasn't going to let them fake his death without seeing Josh first.

“Sam?” came Josh's voice as the door burst open.

“We'll give you a minute,” Leo said with a nod and turned his wheelchair to leave the room, Ron closing the door behind them.

“Hey, Josh, I'm ok,” Sam said, seeing the look on Josh's face.

“I saw you bleeding to death, Sam, there was nothing I could do,” Josh said, tears in his eyes despite his best efforts. “There was so much blood and I couldn't stop it.”

“I know, Josh, it's ok, come here,” Sam held out his arms and Josh practically fell into them, careful of Sam's wound.

“Don't react,” Sam whispered as he buried his nose in Josh's hair and wrapped his arms around the other man. “I'm not supposed to tell you any of this. The people that shot at us, they were after me. Ron told me that my grandfather was doing business with the Italian Mafia and my dad got into debt with them. When my dad didn't pay up they came after me. It's all my fault, and now, it's going to get worse.”

Josh stiffened but nodded, hanging on to every word.

“I have to disappear, Josh, I have to leave. They're going to say I died as a result of the gunshot and they're going to put me in witness protection.”

“Jesus, Sam,” Josh said softly, pulling back to hold his friend at arms length.

“You can't look for me, Josh, you have to promise me,” Sam said desperately, his own eyes misting. “You can't tell anyone, you have to swear it, please.”

“God, Sam, I don't know if I can,” Josh said. His ears were ringing and it felt like the world was collapsing down around him. Again.

“Josh, please. I have to keep them safe. I have to keep you safe,”

“Sam, damn it, I don't want to be safe, I want you here,” Josh said, perhaps a bit louder than he should have. Sam laughed, glancing down and shaking his head.

“We have the worlds worst timing,” he muttered. With a deep breath he raised his head and met Josh's eyes. “Josh, I love you. I know it probably seems cowardly to dump this on you and run, and the fact that I won't ever have to deal with the consequences, but I can't go without you knowing. I love you.”

Josh shook his head and his mouth quirked just a little, despite the crushing pain in his chest. “You're going to wish you got to hang around for some of those consequences,” he said as his smile widened.

“Why's that?” Sam asked, now smiling as well.

“Because,” was all Josh said before he leaned forward. Sam met him halfway and their lips came together in a desperate first, last, and everything kiss.

“It won't be forever,” Sam said when they parted, eyes closes and foreheads leaning together. “It won't be forever. I promise.”

Josh shook his head. “You can't promise me that Sam. What if they get you? What if they kill you?”

“I won't let that happen. I'll come back, I promise. I promise, Josh, I promise.”

Josh took a deep breath and opened his eyes, pulling back a few inches. “I have to do this fast, Sam. I can't...I can't...if I don't leave I'll...”

Sam nodded, his hands gripping Josh's face tightly for a moment. “I love you, Josh.”

Josh squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. “Goodbye, Sam,” he said as he pulled away and fled the room. He didn't look back, he couldn't. If he did he wouldn't be able to walk away.

**January 25 th, 2000**

_Sam Seaborn passed away_ _on Sunday, January 23_ _rd_ _, after sustaining a gunshot wound at the inauguration of President Josiah Bartlet three days before. Mr. Seaborn would have been appointed as the White House Deputy Communications Director in the coming weeks. The President has expressed his deep sadness at the passing of Mr. Seaborn, who worked with President Bartlet on his campaign. Mr. Seaborn is survived by his mother, father, and older sister. The funeral service will be held at the Washington National Cathedral on January 28_ _th_ _._

* * *

 

**July 15 th, 2017**

**Angels Trauma Center, Los Angeles California**

“MVA on 5, multiple casualties coming in!”

Ethan sighed, rubbing his head. It had been a long shift already, 21 hours if he stopped to count. A multiple vehicle accident was the last thing he needed right now. He wanted to go home and sleep off the headache that, if he was honest, had been pounding in his head for the last seventeen years.

“Come on, Willis, lets go!” Dixon grinned as he swept past toward the trauma bay. Ethan shook his head, wondering if he had ever had that much enthusiasm for anything. Sighing he braced his hands on his knees and stood.

After he wasn't sure how many more hours of trauma surgery, ten saves and three losses later, Ethan pushed through the door of the waiting room and froze, his eyes landing on a man in a torn tan trench coat with a field dressing tied to his shoulder.

“Shit.” The word slipped past his mouth and he was glad he was on the other side of the room as his past came crashing down on him. He could hand it off to an intern, he could...who was he kidding. He had been waiting for this moment for almost two decades, had done a decent amount to put it off himself the last few years and now the person he had spent years wanting to see had literally walked into his ER. Taking a deep breath Ethan grabbed a clipboard and admission papers and walked forward, his shoulders stiff.

“Hi, I'm Doctor Willis,” he said cordially. “Lets get you back into the exam area and get that shoulder looked at.”

The man's head snapped up, his eyes wide and his mouth open, gaping like a fish. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he glanced around and nodded, standing up stiffly and following Ethan back to bay 7 where he sat on the gurney. His eyes didn't leave Ethan once.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Ethan asked pleasantly, pulling on a pair of gloves and carefully peeling back the dressing.

“Yeah uh...I was...I was heading to a meeting and some idiot hit me with his car.”

“I take it you were also in a car or you would be in much worse shape than this,” Ethan said with a small chuckle, trying not to wince as he uncovered a six inch gash. The wound wasn't deep, the bleeding sluggish and slow, but it would still need about twenty five stitches.

“I wasn't the one driving, but yeah. I was in a cab actually. Driver was fine, but the window smashed and this huge piece of glass sliced my shoulder open,” the man nearly shrugged, then seemingly remembered he had a hole in his shoulder.

“Alright, can you tell me your name?” Ethan asked as he prepped an IV and two syringes of local anesthetic.

“Joshua Lyman.”

Ethan nodded, ignoring how his heart was pounding three times it's normal speed.

“Nice to meet you,” Ethan said with a smile as he injected Josh's shoulder and prepared to debride the wound.

“How long you been a doctor?” Josh asked casually, scrutinize every inch of Ethan's face as he worked to clean and stitch the wound.

“Not that long by medical standards,” Ethan said carefully. “I started late, my first year of med school was about 16 years ago. Two years in I joined up and finished my training in the army.”

“Iraq?”

“Afghanistan. Three tours,” Ethan said and Josh drew in a breath and gritted his teeth.

“You look like someone I knew a...long time ago,” Josh said quietly.

“I get that a lot if you'd believe it,” Ethan smiled, sewing the last few stitches in silence. “All done,” he said as he cut the silk thread. “I want to keep you here for a few hours to make sure there was no other damage from the crash. A nurse is going to get you a CT scan and IV fluids, along with some broad spectrum antibiotics. I'll be back to check on you in a while,” Ethan said, stripping off his gloves and turning away before Josh could speak, giving the instructions to one of the nurses. He just made it to the, thankfully empty break room, before he sank to the floor, his hands shaking.

“Shit,” he said softly, tears clouding his eyes. He wasn't ready for this, he wasn't ready for Josh to just sweep back into his life. He had already messed everything up so badly he didn't know how he could go back out there and face him again, keep pretending he wasn't who Josh knew he was.

Gathering all the strength the last seventeen years had given him, Ethan rose and went back to work. He quietly checked on Josh a few times throughout the afternoon before discharging him around seven, right before a load of fifteen mass traumas overran the ER. It was past midnight when he got home finally and he knew it would only be a matter of time until Josh tracked him down. After all, he had been cleared from witness protection for five years, his identity showed up on google, and Josh had connections.

Ethan stiffened when a knock sounded on his door about an hour later. He knew it was Josh, he knew he couldn't avoid what was coming forever. He was being a coward, he told himself as he left the glass of scotch on the kitchen counter and went to open the door. Sure enough there was Josh.

“Hi,” Ethan said, opening his door a little wider. Josh was watching him closely, his eyes narrowed.

“You know, all day I've been wondering when you'd say something...every time you came to check on me, I wondered why you didn't say anything,” Josh said and Ethan's shoulders sagged.

“I supposed I ought to give up now, huh?” he said softly, holding the door open.

“I couldn't find you...I looked, I looked for years...Sam, why didn't you come back?” Josh asked as he entered the apartment and turned to Sam.

“I...I don't know, Josh,” Sam sighed, the name strange to his ears after so long. “The guy who replaced Ron Butterfield let me know that they got the guys who were after me, that, since my dad is gone the mafia considers the debt settled and I'm in no danger but...it just...it had been twelve years, Josh. I didn't know how to come back.”

“I missed you. We all missed you. I told Donna eventually, you know. She got it out of me after about a year,” Josh chuckled. “We were together for a while, I thought maybe we'd get married, but I just...I couldn't. Not knowing you were still out there somewhere. She was surprisingly understanding about it...”

Sam smiled. “That sounds like Donna. How is she anyway?”

“She's running for congress next year, she married this guy named Will. He's the guy who got your job,” Josh told him, sinking heavily on the couch that Sam waved him towards.

Sam laughed finally, shaking his head. “I wanted to keep up with everything but I couldn't do it after the first couple of years. I heard about the president's MS...how's he doing?”

“He's fine, he's in remission again, he and Abbey are spending a few months overseas on some island somewhere. Zoey and Charlie are getting married in the fall...”

“Charlie, as in Charlie Young, the presidents body man?” Sam asked, eyes wide.

“Yep,” Josh nodded. “Oh and CJ had a baby.”

“She what?” Sam yelped.

“Remember that reporter, Danny whatever his name was?”

“Redhead?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” Josh chuckled.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“I heard about Leo. I'm sorry,” Sam said quietly.”

“Yeah that was...that was hard,” Josh sighed.

Sam finally sat on the couch next to Josh, sighing deeply. “What do we do now?” he asked.

“I don't know, Sam, I really don't,” Josh sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I'm doing good here, Josh. I think I want to stay a little longer. Maybe another year or so. I mean, I'm active duty but the army knows there was always an out clause for me. All I have to do is ask for a discharge.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, turning his head to look at Josh. His heart jumped at the smile on the other mans face.

“I've got nowhere to be,” Josh said quietly.

“Not planning on running any major campaigns anytime soon?” Sam teased. He thought maybe he should be surprised how easily they fell back into being them, being best friends, being...Josh and Sam. The conversation was flowing like water, catching up on seventeen years without blinking...it was almost like no time had passed.

“Well I was planning to go to work and get that Kennedy girl elected in three years but I've got time. Do you still write?” Josh asked.

Sam's smile softened as he thought of the notebooks he had filled and burned, words that had poured out of him for years, speeches, love letters, novels, he wrote down everything, but he couldn't bring himself to keep any of it.

“Yeah. Yeah I do,” he grinned.

“Good, cus I don't want to do this again without you,” Josh said quietly, reaching his hand out and covering Sam's.

“I'm sorry I missed so much,” Sam whispered, twining his fingers together with Josh's.

“You're here now, that's all that matters,” Josh whispered. “I love you, Sam. I always have. I should have told you that day and I've always regretted that I didn't.”

“Get over here,” Sam chuckled, dragging Josh closer and slotting their mouths together, kissing him for several long minutes that felt like a few seconds.

“Hey, Sam,” Josh whispered, their lips still touching as they breathed each other in.

“Yeah?”

“Can I see the scar?”

Sam laughed loudly, shoving Josh lightly as Josh grinned and chuckled. “I bet you've been waiting seventeen years to use that line, huh?”

“You have no idea, Sam, no idea,” Josh said fondly, ignoring the pain in his shoulder to run his fingers through Sam's army hair. “I've waited a lot longer then that for you,” he said, his voice choked up.

“Me too,” Sam whispered, smiling as he met Josh's eyes. “We're pretty dumb huh?”

“They could build a colossus to our stupidity and it wouldn't come close,” Josh chuckled.

“I love you,” Sam said, brushing his fingers against Josh's cheek.

“I love you too. Idiot,” Josh grinned, leaning forward to seal their mouths together again, the first of the next thousand kisses he planned to steal from Sam. And that was just for a start.


End file.
